The Duke insisted Eugenia write to her aunt and her parents to explain her sudden absence. He dictated the events of her elopement with the Duke of Rothford and closed the letter with the news they would see her in Town during the upcoming Little Season.
How did he expect to present Eugenia as the happy duchess? She would certainly announce to anyone she came in contact with that he was a complete lying, murderous, wretch. She did not plan to cooperate with him in any way. And if he thought he would have her completely in love with him, acceding to his every wish by the time they had reached Town, he was very much mistaken.
Eugenia had the freedom of the house when accompanied by Mrs. Bennett, but the new duchess was not permitted to leave the grounds. Taramore was very large, but not so vast she could satisfactorily conceal herself if she should try to hide from him. She feared that Rothford knew every nook and niche on the estate grounds. There was no doubt that he could eventually find her, probably with great ease.
No, merely hiding from him would not suffice. Eugenia had to wait and find a way to escape completely from Taramore and from Rothford.
Eugenia avoided the outdoors altogether. If she were to roam the garden she might not be able to resist the temptation to flee and she knew exactly how that action would be rewarded. Rothford would have no choice but to level at her the same weapon he had used for the late Earl of Claremont.
For the most part Eugenia chose to keep to the safety of her rooms. Rothford would occasionally request her presence and parade her about. Such was the occasion when the new Earl of Claremont, Donald Hamby, came for a visit. He appeared entirely in black, with a black arm band, a pretense that he was in full mourning. He did not fool Eugenia one bit.
She had learned enough about Rothford’s conspiracy that Hamby had “paid his dues.” by murdering one peer to advance a younger son to their family title. That qualified Hamby to receive the courtesy in return.
He was a murderer.
By arranging these accidents, Rothford ultimately profited and accumulated various favors long after the deeds had been done.
They were both murderers.
It was despicable, beyond anything horrible Eugenia could ever imagine. How did she ever think this was the man of her dreams?
Rothford and Hamby spoke freely of their plans for the upcoming assassinations, in front of her, which made Eugenia so very uncomfortable. The more she knew, the less likely it was she would ever gain her freedom.
This afternoon’s discussion consisted of adding a member to their group of young bloods clamoring to ascend to their family titles. His name, Mr. Randolph Coddington.
Randolph? Lady Penelope’s brother! He wanted to arrange his elder brother Sir Terrence’s murder so he could inherit? This was incredible … impossible … Eugenia could not believe this was happening.
Overhearing the Duke and Hamby, Eugenia learned that Mr. Coddington would replace the cowardly Foster, who did not have the mettle for entree into their elite group.
How the ever-timid Randolph would fair, she could not know. As she recalled, the just-grown boy was frightened of everyone and nearly everything. Eugenia wished she knew of some way to warn the family. No longer was it only her life she feared for, it was Penelope’s elder brother’s.
There were great stretches of time when she did not see Rothford. The staff was instructed to tell Eugenia he was away. She knew exactly what occupied his time while away and did not press Mrs. Bennett for any further details.
As was her habit, Eugenia read in the conservatory for several hours during the afternoon. This fine day she sat in her preferred, overstuffed puce chair, for none in this residence were her favorite, and Mrs. Bennett sat at the other end of the room plying her needle and keeping an observant eye on the duchess.
At the hour of three, Dawson the butler brought in their afternoon tea. While handing her a saucer and teacup, he discreetly passed Eugenia a small, folded slip of paper.
Without a word, she slipped it into her book and finished her tea. Taking her time, she read for an hour more to allay any suspicion altering her routine would cause. Eugenia returned to the safety of her rooms for privacy to open the note and read the contents.
The note explained she had not been abandoned and that she should take care in dealing with Rothford. He could and would turn against her at any time, no matter how amiable he might appear.
That was not news to Eugenia. She had witnessed the Duke’s quick change of mood and an explosive temper at the slightest dissatisfaction.
The other bit of information from the missive was that she could depend on Dawson the butler.
Eugenia debated whether she should trust the information in the message and decided she had no other option. But who could have sent the note?
Her Aunt Rose? Had Eugenia’s aunt somehow discovered her whereabouts? And was a rescue in the works?
Surely not Franz … Edmund.
Edmund was aware of her predicament. However Eugenia could not count on his assistance. If he had any sense at all, he would be hundreds of miles from there, safe and sound.
Rothford would make certain Edmund died a second time if he were to discover his elder brother alive.
But he might have told someone … the authorities … perhaps he could have left an anonymous tip! Then someone could save her from this dreadful place.
If only someone would.
Nearly a week later, again at tea, she received another note. It said:
I have planned your escape. Meet me in the study at 2 in the morning.
Eugenia realized this might have been a trap. Yet this might be her only chance to flee and she needed to warn the Coddington family.
There was no other choice. Eugenia had to trust the person who sent the missive.
That night Eugenia did exactly as the note instructed. She crept down to the study after everyone had retired for the night, arriving just before 2 in the morning. She wore a traveling dress and cloak, prepared to make her escape.
She entered the library with great caution. To her surprise, she spotted a dim shaft of light emanating between two of the built-in bookcases and falling upon the floor. With a bit of prying, she soon discovered the bookcases were not built-in at all.
It took very little effort to move them apart. The hidden door revealed a dimly illuminated hallway carved from rock. The door latched behind her as she stepped through. She realized then, whether she wanted to or not, there would be no turning back.
She stood silent, listening for any hint that might give her a clue as to who was behind this courageous rescue attempt—or who contrived this ruse to cleverly engineer her demise.
The crush of gravel sounded as someone trudged toward her. Whomever it was must have heard the door latch shut after she entered.
Eugenia held her breath, afraid the sound might be heard. She wanted her heart to stop beating, for fear that it would give her away. She did not know who or what she would find in this great cavernous corridor. The pathway traveled downward far beyond her line of sight.
“Eugenia?” someone beckoned from the dark.
“Who is it?” she returned with trepidation, wishing the voice sounded more familiar. She peered below but it was impossible to see.
“Edmund.”
At his answer, she thought two things: either Edmund was the bravest soul on earth or the biggest fool she had ever known. His further actions did not hint as to which was correct.
He appeared before her, holding a small lantern. “We must hurry. We have a great distance to travel and we want to be well on our way before sunrise.”
“Why did you not—” She began then switch questions in mid-thought. “How—”
“There is no time to explain, we must be off.” He reached out to aid her deeper into the tunnel that led far below. Eugenia took hold of his outstretched hand and they began their journey.
They spent hours winding through the man-made, cavernous tunnels under Taramore. During this escape, E
ugenia did not dare voice fatigue. She would prove tireless for as long as Edmund needed her to continue.
They traveled through passage after passage of hewn, cold-chiseled rock, framed with old, decaying wood supports. The dank, uncirculated air hung stale and heavy to breathe.
Then Eugenia heard the faint sound of water, not dripping, nor flowing like that of a crisp moving stream. It was the loud roar and crash of waves breaking against rocks. Up ahead she made out the moorings of a makeshift dock.
The welcome scent of cool salt air wafting in from ahead blew against their faces. The ceiling had risen to a grand height, towering over their heads, opening out to the sea far beyond their sight.
“Let us stop here for a few minutes, shall we?” Edmund suggested. Whether he wished to further admire the seascape, take pity upon her, or perhaps take in her precarious condition, she did not know.
“How are you holding up?”
Eugenia could not manage words but nodded and did her best to smile that her condition was tolerable. She huffed and puffed every step of the way behind him, and was most grateful for the respite.
Light from the half moon glittered, casting silver peaks off the wave caps just outside the cave, highlighting the undulating swells rolling toward them.
He found them a place to sit and set the lamp upon the ground near their feet.
Eugenia stretched her ankles and wiggled her toes inside shoes that were not meant for travel of this sort. Nor was she, truth be told.
“What is this place?” She looked around them, still trying to catch her breath. The lamp illuminated very little. Eugenia could not see what lay beyond the end of the dock.
“It’s a smuggler’s cave. It hasn’t been used for a very long time. Unless my brother has recently.” From the darkened look on his face, he must have thought it not an unreasonable assumption.
A sharp snap pierced the air, followed by the sound of crunching gravel. Eugenia’s sharp glance met Edmund’s, both uncertain of the sound’s origin, both afraid of the implication that it meant an uninvited visitor. Seconds passed, the crunching grew louder.
Eugenia reached out for Edmund’s sleeve and stood with him as he rose to his feet.
“Well, well, look who’s returned.” Thomas’ voice echoed lightly in the cavern. “My word, you’re the last person I’d expect to see.” He leveled his pistol at them, stopping within firing range.
“Don’t you dare hurt Eugenia, Thomas, I’m warning you.” Edmund made the slightest shift of his body, placing himself in front of her.
“You’re threatening me? You’re very brave for a man without a gun. Don’t make any hasty moves, Edmund. I wouldn’t want to shoot anyone by accident.” He gave wild laugh.
The sound of the ocean came in with the tide, growing louder as time went on, providing a background for the pointed remarks the brothers threw at one another. Anger and animosity, hatred and accusations, remarks that had been suppressed for years. All meaningless words to her but clearly full of significance to them.
Eugenia glanced back and forth between the two. She studied how these brothers on the exterior seemed very much alike. Thomas may have stood a bit taller and Edmund’s jaw might have been a little wider, but all in all remarkably alike without the benefit of being twins.
“I’m afraid I’ve only one gun. My duchess and I have already discussed how a premature disappearance of my new wife would look too suspicious. Besides, we already have plans for London. On the other hand,” he shrugged, “no one will miss you, dear brother. You’re already dead.”
Eugenia glanced at Edmund, who did not show the smallest mote of fear. How could he stand there, so calm, when she was terrified that he would be killed? They both knew Thomas had every intention of doing so.
Thomas waved Eugenia aside with his pistol. “Step away from him.” He inched closer and set his lantern on a small, low outcropping of rocks. “Go on.”
Cruel, cruel Thomas. Eugenia honestly believed at this point he wanted to see the fear on their faces. She was too shocked to be frightened and could not decipher her companion’s expression.
Wasn’t Edmund afraid to die?
She released her hold on him and stepped away. Eugenia choked back a cry, wishing she could disobey Thomas’ commands but she dared not.
“Must I remind you that it was I you have formed an attachment to, not my brother, and it was I you’ve married? Please,” he scoffed, “you don’t even know the first thing about him.”
But she did know him, not as Edmund but as Franz. The entire time Edmund, as Franz, was in Brighton, Thomas never suspected his brother was alive nor that he occupied the very same town.
Thomas gave the impression that he was a man of standing and consequence. The only true attribute he had was the resolve to kill to keep it all.
“How you two met is a mystery. I expect you to tell me the tale in its entirety tonight, my dear.” Again he motioned her to step away from Edmund.
Eugenia sniffed and muffled a sob that distracted Thomas only momentarily. It was enough time for Edmund to kick his small lantern into Thomas’ lamp.
At first, the mass of broken pieces flared then the flames burned at a dim, steady glow. Eugenia screamed and ran from the flames spreading across the dock.
The two men struggled in the dim light. Soon she could not discern one brother from the other. The fire spread slowly down the dock ramp toward the surging sea.
A shot rang out.
One of them staggered back. They faced each other, motionless for a few moments before one tumbled over the edge of the dock and fell into the water. A loud splash told the demise of a Mallick brother.
Which one? She had no idea.
Eugenia sank back into a dark corner and wanted to cry out in fright, to scream with pure terror, but she knew the only one to hear her would be him.
A foreboding, darkened figure approached. Eugenia could not be certain of his identity in this obscure light. The two brothers looked too similar and it was too dark for her to tell them apart.
She stood motionless and remained quiet. Contemplating her movements, Eugenia would only take one slow, small step toward him, and toward the dock’s edge, at a time.
“Come,” he said. Whoever he was.
She inched closer, wondering if this was the wrong brother bidding her near. Should she follow and throw herself into the icy water below?
Her heart felt as if it had stopped. A lump had lodged itself in her throat. She could hardly swallow.
“Please, Eugenia, don’t move.” He held his arms out to her. “You’re safe. It’s me, Edmund.”
Edmund …
If only there was some way to know for sure. The planks creaked beneath her feet, gave slightly as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.
She was almost too frightened to speak. “How do I know?” she managed.
“Come closer …” The figure held his hand out to her. “Look at me.”
Eugenia dared not and she took another step toward the sound of the sea.
“Warten Sie, Fraulein,” he whispered, then in that familiar, soft Franz voice said, “Darf ich Sie um diesen Tanz bitten?”
Eugenia’s knees weakened, almost preventing her from rushing headlong into Edmund’s arms. She collapsed against him, tears of joy and relief ran down her face.
Eugenia had never been happier in all her life to see the face of her friendly Franz. He wasn’t Franz anymore but still a familiar face of her dear, dear friend.
“It’s all right,” he whispered into her hair. He held her close. Wrapped securely in his arms, she held on to him where she felt safe.
With Thomas’ death, she and Edmund could safely return to Taramore. Edmund then sent for the magistrate and subsequently Mrs. Bennett was arrested.
Suffering from shock and complete exhaustion, Eugenia gave a statement. Edmund tried to limit her questioning and the need for her to testify. Being one of the victims and the sole witness, it would seem unavoidable. T
hey needed to remain at the estate until the authorities had time to complete their investigation.
Edmund promised her that after this awful business was finished, he would see Eugenia to London and to her family as soon as possible.
It was her dearest wish and all Eugenia could ever want.
Chapter 8
By the end of the following week, the local authorities had been out to Taramore to thoroughly search the passageway and the hidden dock area that lay below. Thomas Mallick’s body had yet to be recovered and might be another victim laid to rest in the Channel’s waters.
Eugenia was very pleased that Edmund Mallick had been cleared of any wrongdoing and had regained his title, entails, and family holdings. The poor man lost five years of his own life, spending them hiding from his younger brother.
She saw very little of Edmund, spending most of the week recuperating and resting from her ordeal. Her opinion of him did not change. After all, was he not Franz without the accent?
Oh so agreeable and ever so much more handsome. How could she have ever confused the two brothers? Thomas the nasty and cruel could not be further removed from Edmund the kind and amiable.
What Eugenia had difficulty comprehending was how Thomas could have ever misled her into believing he had formed an attachment to her. The affection he displayed seemed so real, so utterly convincing. Even more perplexing was how she could have cultivated any affection for him.
Eugenia could not have been more elated by her current marital status … widow. It was unfortunate that the life of a man had to be lost. However, she felt it could not have been a more deserved demise for someone as despicable as Thomas.
Edmund proved to be the same kind of friend to Eugenia as Franz had been. While he sent her ahead to London, he remained behind to handle last-minute details with the investigation, thus sparing her from further distress.
Instead of being delivered to her family’s townhouse on South Audley Street, the driver had orders to take Eugenia to the Rothford residence in Hanover Square.
Lady Eugenia's Holiday Page 8
